


Saving Vicky

by ScoffingAtGravity



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Enemies to Sort-Of Friends, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Light account of Vicky's torture, Michael has a conscience, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rescue Missions, Second Chances, Shawn's A Dick, Things Vicky Deserves: Not That, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-16 16:19:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13639863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScoffingAtGravity/pseuds/ScoffingAtGravity
Summary: With Eleanor back on the right path, Michael reflects and realizes he has a moral obligation to fix something. Now, if he can avoid retirement while doing it, that'd be great. It'd also be great if the person he's helping could stop bickering with him every two minutes.





	1. Hey, Judge, Don't Make It Bad

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a oneshot, but it got away from me. This fic stemmed from my worry about Shawn's comment concerning Vicky, and, with Michael's confession to the rest of Team Cockroach that he wasn't proud of setting Vicky up, I felt he'd try to fix it. I know we're probably not going to see Vicky much in S3 since her actress has a new show, but we can hope this is how things play out? Vicky deserves a chance to learn ethics, too.

Something niggled at Michael’s conscience. His fingers paused on the ticker tape he was reading, and he bit his lip. He didn’t feel guilt for helping Eleanor find Chidi. He’d only feel guilt over that if it sabotaged their chances of getting into the Good Place, but, most likely, any repercussions would fall on his own person, so nothing worth worrying about. What else was there?

“Janet, did Shawn say anything about Vicky to you?”

Without looking up from Jason’s tape, Janet recalled, “He said, and I quote, ‘Despite the fact that Michael is a traitor, Vicky still withheld important information about the experiment, which led to this whole fiasco. We’ll let her stew for a couple centuries, and let the message sink in.’ Why?”

Sighing, Michael let Eleanor’s tape drop from his finger and shifted to face Janet. “Did it seem like he meant her in a cocoon, or that he did something after?”

Janet glanced over. “It sounded like something happened after.” She studied his face. “You feel guilty.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah, I do,” he admitted, removing his glasses and wiping a hand down his face. “When I set her up, it was a measure to protect our friends-and you. I figured that, when the truth came out, she’d be free of the cocoon. I knew there might be a bit more in terms of punishment, but not retirement or something serious. I was annoyed by Vicky, but I didn’t want that.”

“Why not ask Judge Gen if there’s something you can do?” Janet offered after a second of contemplation.

Michael slid the glasses back over his nose and nodded. “That’s not a bad idea. Thanks, Janet.” He pushed his chair backward and stood up. “Will you monitor Eleanor for me while I go talk to her?”

“You’re welcome, and yes.”

“Thanks again.”

It didn’t take too long for Michael to locate Gen. When he didn’t find her in her office, he checked the kitchen. She was pulling a baking dish out of the oven. He leaned against the doorway and waited for her to set the dish down on the counter.

Baking dish of empanadas secured between her oven mitts, Gen straightened back up and shut the oven door with her foot. She pivoted on her heel and noticed Michael. “Hey, Michael! Taking a break from monitoring your humans?” She placed the dish on a slab of wood to cool off.

Michael pushed off the doorway and entered the kitchen. He inclined his head. “Something like that, yes.”

“Great! You want an empanada?”

“Uh, no. I’m good.”

“You sure? They’re good.”

“I’m sure. Maybe later.” He gave a polite smile. “Thank you for offering.”

“Okay, suit yourself.” She shrugged and moved two empanadas onto her plate.

An unpleasant pit formed in his stomach, and Michael swept a hand along the counter’s surface in an effort to calm himself. “There’s, um, actually another reason I’m here.”

The empanada paused halfway to Gen’s mouth, and she frowned. “Did one of the humans die already?”

Michael’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? No! I was just there a bit ago. They couldn’t manage it that fast. Well, Jason, maybe.” He shook his head. “No, they’re all fine. It’s about something else.”

“Oh? What’s up?” She bit into her meal.

“Well, when ensuring the humans didn’t get captured by Shawn and the others, I kind of…set up someone to divert attention long enough to get the humans to safety, and now she’s hurt because of it. I was wondering if there’s anything I could do.”

Gen lifted an eyebrow. “Friend of yours?”

“More like teammate turned backstabber.”

“I feel like there’s a story there. Dish.” She nudged Michael with an elbow and took a few more bites.

“Well, Vicky-that’s her name-didn’t like that her part was reduced after the first attempt. I tried to explain that the success of the experiment would be beneficial for all involved and that she’d land a big account after, but she wasn’t satisfied. With all the stress of making new plans because Eleanor kept figuring it out, I didn’t notice the discontentment rise with the others. Vicky used that to her advantage and kept a record of all the reboots. She blackmailed me into giving control over to her.”

“And that’s when you teamed up with the humans?”

“Yes. I initially joined them to keep from being retired, and then, along the way, we became friends and I learned ethics.”

“So, despite Vicky ousting you and endangering your friends, you want to help her?”

“I know it doesn’t make sense, but yes. It’s the right thing to do.”

Gen nodded. “Okay, I see that. I can’t personally interfere with how the Bad Place deals with its employees, but, if someone else went there and brought them here, it’d be in my domain, and I’d decide what to do. One question, though: where would this Vicky go? She can’t return to the Bad Place, but she doesn’t belong in the Good Place.”

“Good question.” Michael rubbed his bottom lip in thought. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. “What if she stayed here?”

“Here? In the neutral zone? With me?”

“Well, yeah. You mentioned that you rarely get visitors, so you get bored. With Vicky around, you’d have company. You wouldn’t be bored, and she wouldn’t get tortured. It’s perfect!”

“I do get bored.” Gen sighed. “Okay. If you can rescue Vicky without getting caught and bring her to me, I’ll give her the option to stay here.”

The gravity of the situation weighed on him, and he tucked his left hand into his jacket pocket. “That’s fair.”

“Come on,” Gen directed, jerking her head toward the doorway. “I’ll leave the portal open for an hour. Find her, rescue her, and get back here before it closes again.” She led him to the portal room and walked over to her desk. Retrieving two pins from the top drawer, she handed them to Michael. “Good luck.”

Swallowing down his nerves, Michael rubbed a thumb against the metal in his palm. “Thanks. I’ll need it.” He stepped over to the portal and stopped just in front of it. Pivoting on his heel, he looked at Gen. “In case things don’t go well, tell Janet to take care of the others for me.”

“I will.”

His mouth ticked upward a moment before tightening. With a determined set to his jaw, Michael stepped through the portal.


	2. What Happened To Vicky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't get super detailed with the torture, but it's there. I figured there needed to be a chapter about what happened to Vicky after Shawn put her in the cocoon. 
> 
> As for why her torture's worse than the one Shawn was going to give to Michael, it's for three main reasons. 1) Her torture also served as an example/warning to the others part of the project. They needed to be scared into silence. Michael's was more hush-hush. 2.) She didn't align with the humans. She just let her own desires outweigh the bottom line. She's still seen as a demon, so she gets a demon level torture instead of the mocking "human" style torture Michael was given. 3.) We've seen the atmosphere of the Bad Place, and there's definitely sexism. It's messed up, but it's the reality.

Vicky didn’t know how long she’d been stuck in the cocoon. As soon as it closed around her, all sounds became muffled. Someone-probably Bad Janet-moved her around roughly, and, at one point, she thought she heard the standard welcome to the Bad Place. After that, no one moved her again, and it was just waiting. Other than the gooey texture, she didn’t mind the solitude. The quiet helped her think…and plan revenge.

An upward motion caught her off guard, and, suddenly, the cocoon fell away from her body. She blinked as her human eyes readjusted to the dim light. Grim faces swam into focus, and Vicky felt her stomach drop. Clearly, no one knew of Michael’s treachery yet.

Taking a step toward Shawn, Vicky pleaded, “You have to listen to me! I didn’t remove Janet’s bracelets, and Michael’s-.”

“Enough!” Shawn glared. “I heard enough of your lies back at the train station, and I don’t care to hear any more.”

Vicky’s eyes drifted to her coworkers, but they all averted their gaze. “But-!”

“But nothing! You facilitated the humans’ escape and tarnished a successful experiment. This isn’t a trial. It’s a sentencing, and,” Shawn said, eyes traveling to the other demons assembled, “a statement.”

Vicky paled and took a step back. “If you’d just listen, I can prove Michael’s a traitor. Come on, Shawn. Don’t do this.”

“The only traitor here is you, Vicky,” Shawn snapped, narrowing his eyes. “Now, as I was saying, it’s also a statement to your friends.” He shifted to face them. “If anyone, and I do mean anyone, discusses the humans escaping or anything related to the experiment, they can join Vicky in her punishment. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Shawn,” a chorus of voices answered.

Shawn nodded, pleased at their compliance. “Now, for the sentencing. Vicky, since you helped the humans escape, which has never happened before in the history of the Bad Place, I’ve chosen a torture that’s fitting.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Bad Janet.”

Bad Janet appeared behind him. “What’s up, fucknuts?”

“Bad Janet, please open Vicky’s new home for, well, all of eternity.”

“Whatever.” Bad Janet waved a hand, and the wall slid apart to reveal a small room. Lava covered the floor, and only an inch thick platform stood above it all.

“I’d make this a spectacle, but this is all hush-hush, so I can’t.”

Vicky shook her head. “I’m not going in there, and is that circus music?!”

“Yes, it is, and, yes, you are.” Shawn jerked his head in the direction of the room. “Bad Janet, take care of this.”

Strong hands propelled her forward, and Vicky stumbled into the room. A scream tore itself from her throat as the lava covered her feet. She turned to dart out of the room, but the wall sealed itself and blocked any escape.

“Damn you, Michael,” Vicky hollered, eyes screwing shut against the pain. She bit her lip and moved painful step by painful step to the raised platform. A shudder wracked its way through her body, and she swallowed against the bile rising in her throat.

One fall later, Vicky balanced herself on the platform. The edge dug into her burned skin, and she hissed. “Just stay balanced. They’ll find out the truth, and I’ll get out of here…maybe they’ll let me torture Michael even. Yeah, that’s good.” A dark chuckle bubbled from her lips. “Retirement’s too good for him. I’ll think of something better.” Her eyes moved down to the lava. “Just as soon as I’m out of here.”

Occasionally, she’d slip and fall into the lava. Those times she let out a stream of curses. Most of the time Michael was the target of her ire, but Shawn and Gayle also featured. She quickly lost track of time. Each agonizing moment melted into another, and she soon discovered that platform titled at random times. Still, the hope of revenge kept her going. Michael would pay for setting her up.

When the wall opened up some time later and Shawn appeared, a feral grin formed on her face. Finally. It was time.

“You were right. Michael did side with the humans and help them escape. They went through the portal and are arguing their case to the Judge, I assume. We have Michael in custody now.”

“Good,” she spat out.

“However,” Shawn paused, face morphing into feigned sympathy, “I can’t just let you go, either. You did still put your own personal success over your mission of torturing humans. An example still needs to be made.”

She couldn’t believe her ears. “What?! But Michael’s the traitor! I was just trying to get ahead!”

“Yes, and, by doing so, you let Michael send in false data which ultimately helped the humans escape. The others, at least, have the excuse of respecting the chain of order, but you, on the other hand, clearly had no such reservations.”

“I-I” 

“That’s what I thought. Now, if you’ll excuse me, which clearly you will. You can’t go anywhere. Well, not for another century or two. I have to deal with Michael.”

The wall resealed, and an angry shout reverberated throughout the room. Her ire at Michael only slightly lessened as the hatred for Shawn grew. If she could only inform Shawn’s superiors of everything that happened, he’d be in trouble, too. Maybe they’d give her early release and let her assist in Michael’s punishment.

Just as the idea cemented in her mind, the wall opened once more. This time, the lava disappeared.

Blinking, Vicky stared at Bad Janet. “Am I free to go? Was Shawn just fucking with me?”

“No, dumbass. Michael and his Good Janet escaped. Shawn sent me down here to make sure you can’t talk to the higher ups. I’m in charge of damage control.”

Vicky blanched.

Bad Janet lifted up an old-fashioned sewing needle and a thick chord of thread. “I suggested tongue removal, but the fat dink liked this idea better.” In a moment, Bad Janet appeared directly in front of Vicky and grabbed her jaw. “Hold still, and it’ll hurt less. Not much, but still.”

Nostrils flaring, Vicky tried to pull her head away from the steel grip. “No, stop!”

“Oh, quit being such a baby.”

The needle pierced flesh, and a pained scream rent the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I knew Vicky was going to be mad at Michael in this chapter, but I wasn't prepared for the strength of her vitriol. In the next chapter, we'll see Michael's rescue attempt, and he and Vicky will finally interact. Makers of light, darkness, and everything be with him. lol


	3. The Rescue

Shoulders tight with apprehension, Michael exited the portal and surveyed Bad Place headquarters. His brow furrowed at all the empty desks and offices. While there were occasions demons left desk duty to do field work or attend meetings, those were typically scheduled in a way that kept a certain amount of staff around. A sneaking suspicion arose in the former Bad Place architect. Their absence was linked to his betrayal and the humans’ escape.

 

Michael shook off the unease that revelation evoked and slipped the pins into his pocket. He had a free window of time to operate in without getting caught, and he wasn’t going to waste it. Quickly making his way into Shawn’s office, he rounded the desk.

 

“Where would he put a file on Vicky?” Michael muttered to himself, narrowing his eyes. His gaze flitted between the file cabinets and the desk drawers. Deciding Shawn would recognize how easy it was to break into desk drawers, he grabbed a paperclip, and squatted in front of the file cabinet directly behind Shawn’s desk.

 

A few jiggles later, and a click resounded. The paperclip became scalding in Michael’s fingers, and he released it. Blowing on his fingers, Michael scoffed at himself. As if it’d be that easy. Shawn might not be aware of plot points to Stephen King novels, but he wasn’t stupid.

 

A cough broke Michael out of his thoughts, and his whole body tensed. Shifting his weight to his left leg, Michael looked up to see an amused Bambadjan tilting his head.

 

“Um, I don’t suppose you’d believe I’m looking for a book Shawn borrowed, and then didn’t return?” Michael put on his best innocent face.

 

Grinning, Bamadjan shook his head. “No such luck.”

 

With a wry smirk and a huff, Michael placed a hand on the cabinet and pushed himself into a standing position. “It was worth a shot.”

 

“So, what are you really doing here? I don’t think there’s a demon that doesn’t know how you helped those humans escape. The higher-ups are clamoring for your retirement. What benefit is there in returning?” Bambadjan crossed his arms.

 

Michael sighed. “Vicky. She didn’t deserve what happened.”

 

“You intend to rescue her from Shawn’s torture?”

 

Squaring his shoulders, Michael gave a nod. “Yes.”

 

“Well,” Bambadjan started, “you’re not going to find any help in Shawn’s office. He didn’t want any records left about what happened in your neighborhood experiment. It’d look bad on him. Maybe get him retired.”

 

Michael squinted at the other demon and decided he was telling the truth. “So, are you going to tell the others I’m here, or have you done that already?”

 

Bambadjan chuckled. “I didn’t call anyone. I wouldn’t get any answers then.” His expression turned serious. “Why are you trying to rescue Vicky after she started a mutiny and took control over your experiment? Why side with the humans when you had both a promotion and the threat of Vicky handled?”

 

Mulling it over for a few moments, Michael only had one answer. “It’s the right thing to do.”

 

Appearing to accept that answer, Bambadjan nodded. “Okay, you know where Shawn intended to trap you forever? With the New Yorkers?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Vicky’s down the hall and to the left. There’s a button on the right that opens the wall up to her room.”

 

Michael’s head cocked to the side. “Why are you helping me?”

 

“It’s the right thing to do,” Bambadjan repeated back to him. “Now, I should warn you: her condition is pretty rough. It might be easier if you had some transportation.” Gesturing for Michael to hide behind Shawn’s desk, Bambadjan waited until he did as instructed. “Bad Janet?”

 

Bad Janet appeared next to him. “What’s up, fartbucket?”

 

“I need a Ferrari.”

 

Bad Janet looked up from her phone and scoffed. “As if, numbnuts! Ferraris are for cool people, not dinks. Have a shitty golf cart.” A golf cart materialized outside. “That all?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Bye, loser.” Bad Janet disappeared.

 

Michael straightened up from his crouch behind the office chair and fixed Bambadjan with a confused look.

 

“Neither of us have time for me to go into details. Let’s just say I’m a fellow supporter of changing the system of the afterlife.” He grinned. “Have been for some time. I knew you had potential. I’m glad to see I was proven right.”

 

Michael’s confused look remained.

 

“Now, back to business, the others are stuck talking to the higher-ups about all of this. There’s this new lecture about spotting signs of a fellow demon becoming compromised, and Shawn’s trying to explain things to his bosses. You have about fifteen more minutes before the majority returns. I’d suggest you move with haste.”

 

Blinking away the remaining shock, Michael nodded and walked over to the golf cart. He slid into the seat and glanced back at the other demon. “Thanks, Bambadjan.”

 

Bambadjan smiled and inclined his head. “Of course. Now, go save Vicky! She has potential, too, you know. She was the only one, besides you, interested in doing things differently.”

 

Wondering once more what would’ve happened if he’d been more receptive to Vicky’s suggestions instead of shrugging her off at every turn, Michael bit his lip and decided things ultimately worked out for the best. Sure, the experiment might’ve really worked, but his friends would’ve been doomed to eternal misery. He’d also be his worst self. Dislodging those thoughts, he refocused on the mission. “Down the hall and to the left, right?”

 

“Right.”

 

“Right,” he echoed, turning the key in the ignition. Without another word, he drove in the direction Shawn had led him down not too long ago. He relaxed more and more each time he saw an empty hallway. Despite the assurance he had some time to get things done without needing to sneak around, he still worried.

 

He drove past the room Shawn was going to lock him in and continued until he came to the intersection. He turned left into what appeared to be a dead end, and parked. Stepping out of the golf cart, Michael ambled over to the central wall. He located the control panel easily enough and pressed the release button. A low grinding sounded before the wall opened up.

 

Expecting to hear Vicky shout at him for framing her, Michael felt perplexed when no sound emanated from the room. He stepped into the room, and, when his eyes found Vicky’s form, Michael had to fight back the urge to vomit.

 

Lips sewn shut, still raw and bleeding, Vicky stood on a platform that couldn’t be much more than an inch thick. Her eyes were closed as if she were concentrating on remaining still.

 

“Vicky?” Michael called out, softly.

 

Brown eyes opened. Disbelief warred with anger for a moment before settling into defiance. She jutted her chin out and maintained eye contact.

 

“I never wanted this,” he whispered, almost to himself.

 

Vicky’s leveled him with a skeptical expression and haltingly stepped off the platform. Breaking eye contact, she looked to see if any other demons were around. Her eyes found his once more after she verified the lack of further audience.

 

Michael didn’t shy away from her gaze. “I didn’t, and I’m,” he paused, feeling the word ‘sorry’ to be inadequate under the circumstances, but not having a better substitution, “sorry I framed you.”

 

Her eyebrows rose, and then lowered. She moved to step toward Michael, but stumbled. Lurching forward, Michael wrapped an arm around her frame and held her up. Their close proximity let him take stock of her other injuries, and his stomach dropped out from under him at the sight of the third degree burns. Her legs clearly bore the brunt of the heat, and he noticed a smear of blood from where her foot had been.

 

Making a judgment call, Michael leveled his other arm behind her knees and lifted her up into his arms. He met her indignant glare with a remorseful gaze. “I know it doesn’t make everything right, but I’m here to rescue you. I cleared things with Judge Gen. You can stay in the neutral zone if you want, and no one will be able to touch you,” he explained, carrying her over to the golf cart. Gently setting her on the passengers seat, he noticed a pair of surgical scissors resting in the cup holder. Bambadjan must’ve slipped them there, Michael decided. “Is it okay if I cut the thread?”

 

Vicky lifted an unimpressed eyebrow at him and nodded.

 

Taking a steadying breath, Michael grabbed the scissors in one hand and tilted up Vicky’s face with the other. He did his best to cause the least amount of pain as possible, but still caught Vicky wince a few times. It took a few moments until he cut the final section of the thread. Seeing Vicky test her mouth’s freedom, he set the scissors back in the cup holder and rounded the golf cart to sit back in the driver’s seat.

 

In his peripheral vision, he saw Vicky touch the bits of the thread embedded in her skin with delicate fingers. His stomach churned both at what had been done to her, and how his actions led to it. A punch to the shoulder broke Michael out of his guilt spiral.

 

“Still. Pissed,” Vicky managed, grimacing with each word.

 

Michael’s head jerked in a nod. “Understandable.”

 

His response seemed to satisfy Vicky, and she relaxed in her seat. “Let’s. Go.”

 

Throwing the gear into reverse, Michael backed out until he had enough room to maneuver, and then switched back to forwards. He set off in the direction back to Bad Place headquarters. This time, he saw demons milling about, and his anxiety resurfaced.

 

Michael slowed to a stop, and turned his attention toward Vicky, who was picking the bits of threads out of her lips. The skin appeared to be healing itself as soon as the foreign object was gone, which relieved him. “Okay, we’ve finished the easy part, and now…things are going to get a bit risky.”

 

Removing the last of the thread, Vicky smirked. “We could always run over anyone who tries to get in the way.”

 

“Only if it’s necessary,” Michael said.

 

“I can see the ethics classes are paying off-not that it stopped you from throwing me under the bus,” Vicky scoffed.

 

“Which I’m sorry about.”

 

“Sorry doesn’t un-torture someone!”

 

“I know.”

 

Vicky crossed her arms. “Let’s just figure out this escape, and then we’ll handle everything else after.”

 

“Seconded.” Michael read the time on the wall clock and calculated how much time he’d already spent. “We have about thirty-eight minutes to get back to the portal. After that, Judge Gen’s neutral zone will be sealed for an indefinite time.” He reached into his pocket. “That reminds me: here’s your pin.” He handed a pin to her, and placed the other one on his lapel.

 

“One less thing to worry about; that’s good.” She fixed the pin on her sweater. “Better get a move on if we’re on the clock.” As the golf cart started moving again, she looked over at her framer-turned-rescuer. “By the way, how much planning went into this?”

 

“Almost none,” Michael admitted, cringing.

 

Vicky blinked. “Almost none? You just decided, ‘hey, better go infiltrate the Bad Place with no actual plan and undertake a rescue operation’?”

 

“Not in those exact words.”

 

“Oh, what words did you use then?!”

 

Michael’s eyes darted to her incredulous ones briefly. “Look, can we discuss this later when I’m not driving and trying to find an alternate route that doesn’t end in us getting caught?”

 

“Oh, are we planning now? Better late than never, I guess.”

 

Gritting his teeth, Michael took a deep breath and willed himself not to snap back. “Well, would you like to take over?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“Fine! Which direction should we go?”

 

“Just let me drive,” Vicky demanded, pushing herself with a pained hiss over onto Michael’s lap. “You control the gas. I’ll tell you when to slow down, or go faster.”

 

Freezing at the contact and change in position, Michael dropped his arms to his sides and swallowed. “Okay.”

 

Shifting to glance back at Michael, Vicky stated, “I think I like you better like this.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Not blowing off my suggestions. Imagine how things could have gone if that started earlier.” Vicky turned down a vacant hallway.

 

“One of your torture ideas was needles. Just needles.”

 

“You said that it ‘wonderful’!”

 

“I lied.”

 

“Been doing a lot of that, I’ve noticed.”

 

Michael rubbed a hand down the side of his face, and, not for the first time during the rescue attempt, wished he could get advice from one of the humans. “Just drive, okay? Just drive, Vicky.”

 

* * *

Author's Note: The next chapter will feature Michael and Vicky's escape from the Bad Place.

 

**Author's Note:**

> As for when I'll write the next chapter...who knows? I hope soon, but I know myself too well to promise anything. Screaming at me on here or over on my tumblr is guaranteed to motivate me to write quicker, though. :)


End file.
